


A Night At The Maclay's

by BlondeWiccan



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlondeWiccan/pseuds/BlondeWiccan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is set before Tara even steps foot in Sunnydale. We only saw a taste of the abuse relationships between Donny and Mr. Maclay, so I decided to write something that I believed might have happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night At The Maclay's

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews are always appreciated! It's dark, but it's what I believe happened in Tara's past.

She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t do it anymore. The thought of being in this damned house for one more month terrified her so much more than the belt or the hand. The blonde Wiccan shuddered, managing to crawl onto her bed. She lay awkwardly on her mattress, staring up at the ceiling. The familiar burn of tears threatened to spill, and she did nothing to stop it. Just one more month, and then she could move to Sunnydale…get away from all this.  
  
Her mind wandered back to the most recent events, which had happened only two hours ago. Tara was in the process of washing dishes, and Donny, her brother, had spooked her by coming up from behind and slapping his hand on her back, which caused the plate to fall and crash into the sink.  
  
Her body shook violently, as Donny slapped her upside the head so hard her head nearly slammed into the sink.  
  
She started to hyperventilate almost instantly, as Donny laughed, enjoying her episode. “Hey daddy! Looks like she screwed up again!”  
  
In a weak attempt to hide it, the blonde quickly started picking up pieces, not caring if the jagged edges peeled and pricked into her skin. She was shaking so bad that she ended up cutting herself so deep that blood gushed out.  
  
She gasped. _‘Daddy won’t be happy…’_  
  
Footsteps thundered through the house, swearing without censor.  
  
Tara stiffened, unable to do anything else. No thoughts of running or defending…what would be the point?  
  
A hand slammed onto her shoulder, causing her knees to buckle before being twirled, standing in the face of her furious father.  
  
“That plate was priceless, you thankless little prick!” He slammed her into the nearest wall, sending a photo that was pinned on the wall to fall and shatter.  
  
Tara could hear her brother snicker, and her eyes flickered to him before eyeing the floor. “You’ll clean up both these messes.” Her father hissed.  
  
He didn’t have to say anything else. “Y-yes s-s-sir…”

She tried her hardest to contain her breathing, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.  
  
He looked to her with a smirk before storming away.  
  
Tara immediately kneeled, picking up the pieces she could find from the frame.  
  
“Better not miss any…Daddy’s got hawk eyes.” Tara slowly looked up, her hair covering most of her face. A dark, sinister sneer curled at Donny’s lips before he turned on his heel and left.  
  
Two hours later, she was up in her bedroom, looking at her calendar. _‘One more month, Maclay…you can do this…’_  
  
But could she really? She’d dreamed a thousand times what might be out there, waiting for her.  
  
Definitely not the pain she kept experiencing…there couldn’t be a worse pain than this.  
  
She stood and pulled out a loose night-shirt from the drawer, tugging off her oversized shirt she’d worn for the day, and looked herself in the mirror. Her arms and back were covered in bruises, some brown and lessening, while others were an angry purple and blue. Her shoulder was already starting to bruise from the force of Mr. Maclay’s hand, she saw a painful red mark where Donny had hit her. The pain in her head stayed the same as it did when the accident happened, threatening to not let her sleep for the night.  
  
Pulling the shirt on as painlessly as she could, she scrambled under her sheet, shivering against the cold. Curling into a ball, she looked out the barred window, once again staring at the stars.  
  
It’s the closest she would most likely ever get to star-gazing, and started to point out constellations in her mind. It was the only activity she had to ease the pain and fear.  
  
After seeing a shooting star skirt across the sky, she gasped. It was always a beautiful sight, and held no hesitation to wish.  
  
After closing her eyes and clapping her hands together, she prayed upon the gods and goddesses for several seconds before nodding, feeling that her wish had been heard.  
  
She was always so gullible…she’d been praying to them for years, yet look at the hovel she was in.  
  
 _‘At least you’re still alive.’ ‘Am I really though?’_  
  
She remembered her mother telling her once that wishing harm upon herself or others would come back to her, three-fold. Sighing shakily, she closed her eyes. _  
  
‘I wish you were here, mama…I miss you so much…’_  
  
She sniffled, a tear threatening to fall, but she quickly wiped it away. _“Tears won’t bring me back, baby girl.”_  
  
 _‘At least she’s away from all this…’_  
  
That brought a smile to her face. Her mother wasn’t in danger of the men here, and that’s the thought that comforted her enough to slowly start relaxing, slowly drifting off the land where she went from one nightmare, to another.  
  
Would it ever end? She prayed one last time, that someday..somehow…someone would save her from this hell.


End file.
